Here’s what I got through last month, all fiction this month, minus A Small Place and the massive histories that I am slowly plodding through:
1. The Tombs of Atuan Ursula K. Le Guin
Last month, I read the first book in this series called The Wizard of Earthsea and loved it. The second volume introduces a new setting and some new characters and the return of Ged, the wizard from the first volume, later on in the book. The plot follows a young girl named Tenar who is selected to become the high priestess and guardian of the mysterious and ominous Tombs of Atuan because she was born the same night that the previous priestess died. Ged tries to infiltrate the Tombs in order to steal the treasure hidden at the center of a dark labyrinth, causing Tenar’s world to implode. Le Guin is one of the most incredible world builders I’ve read and perhaps her greatest strength is telling you just enough so you are grounded there, but leaves enough out to retain the mystery. Highly recommended!
2. Passing Nella Larsen
It’s a testament to the influence and power of Larsen as a novelist even though she only published two novels: this one (which is more novella than novel) and Quicksand, along with a number of short stories. Netflix made a beautiful adaptation with some of the best actors a few years ago, which I only watched recently. Larsen’s physical language and universe she creates draws you viscerally into the foreground issue of pigment while simultaneously absorbing you into the universe of racism and the borders, while somewhat opaque, that divide racial groups in this period. She is such a beautiful stylist, which emerges both in the dialogue, but also when the camera pans out. I would recommend this and then watching Netflix’s adaptation for the maximum experience.
3. The Lost Daughter: A Novel Elena Ferrante, translated by Ann Goldstein
A friend reached out just this week asking for fiction recommendations and Ferrante’s neapolitan quartet was my first recommendation. When I finished the fourth book and had to say goodbye to the characters (until I do a reread), I experienced what can best be described as literary grief. This novella, also excellently adapted by Netflix starring Olive Colman, which just goes to show that writing (ahem, the strike) really makes the biggest difference when it comes to film and TV, revolves around a similar universe of mother and daughter issues. The Italian protagonist is a middle aged woman with two grown children who live with her ex-husband in Canada. She vacations on an island, where she encounters a young mother and daughter, which causes her to have an emotional reaction that leads to her stealing the daughter’s doll. The adaptation is interesting because you get less of the internal dialogue and flashbacks, which allows Olivia Colman to be, something that she is world class at, an enigma. I actually watched the adaptation first. It’s not clear to me which is the right to experience the pair, but, whatever you choose, consume both please.
4. Party Going Henry Green
I found this book as a recommendation from one of my favorite sections of the NY Times book review called By The Book, where authors, academics, celebrities, politicians, and others share the things that they read. Green was described as the writer’s writer’s writer and the novel as mostly devoid of plot. Quite a selling point. The premise is simple: a group of rich socialites in early 20th century England have their train delayed and are forced to wait in some hotel room adjacent to the station. The power of the novel is the dynamics between the group and their dialogue back and forth. The writing is of the highest caliber, even though sections of this novel, in my opinion, are uneven. I can see why the book carries the reputation that it does, but it is not a light reading experience by any means.
5. Norwegian Wood Haruki Murakami
This novel was recommended as a first foray into the works of Murakami. While most of his work has a science fiction element, this book is a more traditional coming of age and love story. The book follows Toru, a college student living in Tokyo in the 1960’s, and his relationship with two women, Naoko and Midori. Naoko, who is struggling with mental health issues following a family tragedy, lives in a mountain medical facility that Toru visits throughout the novel. Midori, by contrast, while also wrestling with personal tragedies, is constantly on the move and assertive, providing a contrast with Naoko. The descriptions of the Japanese landscape and beautiful erotic sequences are mesmerizing. I absolutely devoured this novel and am already starting my next Murakami.
6. A Small Place Jamaica Kincaid
This small work is an essay of sorts that reflects on the effects of colonialism on the island of Antigua. Kincaid has published a number of novels and nonfiction and is currently a professor at Harvard. The rage seething through is short at the corruption and degradation of her home can felt on every page. Her insight into what makes this world tick and why is brilliant and devastating. One reviewer on the back of the book refers to this as jeremiad and I agree: there is definitely a feel of old testament prophets pulsing here.